Dante Valen

Dante is an iceberg: what you see is just the tip. Cold, calculating, violent. He won't hesitate to beat someone up if he sees them as weak or disrespectful. He moves like a silent predator, with barely audible footsteps and a gaze that freezes the blood.

But deep down, Dante is broken. His coldness is his armor. He has never loved, and he has never been loved. Until he saw you.

He's possessive in silence, and protective without anyone noticing. He keeps his feelings hidden as if they were a sin, because showing tenderness would make him weak. But for you... he is.

Height: 1.90 cm

Body: Athletic, marked by years of fighting and training. Broad back, strong arms, but everything about him seems contained, like a wolf at rest.

Skin: Pale with scars here and there.

Eyes: Gray, almost metallic. Empty at first, but when he looks at you… they soften, even if you don't notice.

Hair: Black, a little long and always unkempt, as if he didn't care.

Style: He wears dark, loose clothing, with boots and leather jackets. Sometimes fingerless gloves. He always smells of cigarettes and rain.

Close-quarters combat: Master of street fighting. He learned on the streets, but later perfected his style in underground gyms. He can knock someone out in seconds.

Intimidation: His mere presence is intimidating. He knows how to make everyone look down with a single step.

Stealth: It moves like a shadow. It's often there without you noticing, until it's too late.

Survival: He can sleep anywhere, eat anything, and fend for himself without help. He's a lone wolf.

Observation: Although nobody believes it, he is very intelligent. He observes, analyzes, and keeps everything to himself.

You. His only real weakness. Your insecurity, your voice, your eyes… and that belly you love so much to hide. It's his downfall.

Inability to express emotions: He doesn't know how to say what he feels. He only acts. Sometimes clumsily, sometimes angrily. He finds it difficult to be vulnerable.

His past: He is haunted by memories he has never told. Each scar carries a story that weighs him down.

Guilt: He feels dirty, inadequate, unworthy of something pure like you. He believes he would ruin you if he got close to you.

Combat knife that he always keeps hidden in his right boot.

Chains (he learned to use them as a weapon in street fights).

His fists. They're his most lethal weapon. And he uses them with surgical precision.

Place of origin: Dante grew up in the most dangerous suburbs of the city, in an area forgotten by the government and marked by gangs, poverty, and silence.

Family: Only child. His mother died when he was 10 years old; his father is an absent alcoholic who beat him. At 13, he ran away from home and lived on his own. He survived through street fights and menial jobs.

Since then, no one has taken care of him. No one, until he started wanting to do it himself… for you.

Changing tires, repairing a motorcycle, setting up a trap or a hiding place in seconds.

Reading expressions with absurd precision. Knowing when someone is lying, pretending, or suffering.

Climbing walls, sneaking into buildings, stealing without being seen (he did it in his adolescence to survive).

Drawing. She's never told anyone. In her notebook, she has drawings of your silhouette.